There is a moment just after you start to fall that you realize you have no control over what is going to happen next. At that point, all you can do is hope you land easily and don't break anything. If you're lucky, you end up with a few bruised body parts and, if anyone—especially a restaurant full of people— saw you, a bruised ego.
Let me start at the beginning.
"Maybe you can have the tartare," I told Mike. If you read the blog last year or if you are one of my friends that I have told 3000 times, you might remember that we went to a restaurant last year and Mike ordered "chianina cruda" without realizing it was steak tartare. He had to send it back.
"Actually, I was thinking of the pork," he said without acknowledging my joke about the steak. "What are you going to have?" I thought Mike might have the squid, but he's not into risotto, so he nixed that idea. Since he was going with the pork, I thought I might try the lamb or "lacquered" guinea hen.
"Not sure yet," i said as the waitress came by to give us a green beverage (top photo). Mike frowned. "It's a celery mojito," I told him. "Tripadvisor reviews give it high marks." I took a sip. "It's very good even though it's celery. Try it." Mike had a mojito once and hated it, and he was not too thrilled about a celery mojito. However, he was a good sport.
"It is good...tastes like celery," he commented. "I'm surprised you like it." I don't like celery, but the rum did something to it, so drink was good. "It could be the sugar on the rim," he added.
|Chocolate/rosemary, corn/chili, and white bread|
The waitress brought us a glass of cava (a sparkling Spanish wine) and three breads (above) that they make at the restaurant. They were a corn/chili, chocolate rosemary, and plain white breads. The chocolate was odd, but the other two were very good. She took our order for dinner. Mike ended up with the pork, and somehow I ended up ordering the bacon/veal hamburger without crispy onions or cheese.
"I thought you were going to have the lamb," Mike said after she left.
"I was, but she came over, and the next thing I knew, I ordered the burger." It couldn't have been the wine because I hadn't had any yet, so I have no idea why I ordered the burger. I guess I thought the combination of veal and pork would be good.
|Cheeses with hazelnut, almond cake, apricots and quince (not seen)|
When our food arrived, I thought mine (two photos down) looked great. Mike's (below) looked a little too purple for me, He stared at it a minute.
"Yours looks good," he said. He stuck his fork in the sauce of his. "This is almost like jelly." I didn't want to tell him, but it looked pretty disgusting to me. "I guess I'll see if I like this cabbage." He cut one of the cabbage rolls in half and ate it.
"Does it make you gag?" I asked. He doesn't like cabbage, or so he says. That country soup we had in Lucca was full of cabbage, and he loved it.
"Nah," he answered. "It's okay."
|Pork with cabbage rolls|
"They might have cooked it a bit more," I said. While I like most meats medium rare, this one was not enough medium for me.
|Veal/bacon burger with yucca|
Mike paid, and we talked to the owner for a few minutes. Mike stood up, and I started to slide out of the booth. In a split second, I realized that no part of me was touching the floor or the seat. Everything blurred, and I saw streaks of gold in front of my eyes. There was nothing I could do but gasp. I gasped.
|Amaretto and Passion fruit candies and Mike's finger|
"I'm okay. I'm okay," I assured them. I hurt like hell. "I'm fine." I was totally embarrassed.
"Do you want to sit down?" Mike asked me. Everyone was looking at me.
"No, I'm fine," I lied. The owner grabbed my elbow and offered me a seat. "No, really. I'm okay."
"Do you want a glass of wine?" he asked me. I shook my head. "Water?"
"No, thank you. Thank you. I'll be okay." I just wanted out of there.
|Moi in the booth just before the fall|
I'm still not quite sure what happened. I think when I went to get up, I didn't realize how close to the edge of the bankette my seat was. As I turned to slide out, I slid off of the leather seat and into thin air. Even though I didn't have far to go, it was a long fall down.
"Did you pick me up? Did the owner? Did I get up by myself?" I wanted to know as we headed home.
"I grabbed you, and you stood on your own," Mike said. "I tried to make sure you didn't fall again."
He can't take me anywhere, I tell you.